The North Wants Multiple Lonteses (2)
Wait a moment.
Why did Aiden slaughter the goose that laid the golden eggs?
“If he had just left it alone, we could have secured Lontes’s interests and generated a steady stream of profit. Was it really necessary to go this far…?”
Roland was puzzled by this.
While he understood that plans could change depending on the situation on the ground, such a sudden shift in strategy was a bit disconcerting.
The original plan for the North had been to create a few more strings to pull besides Jefferson. Just as it is standard practice to plant more than two spies to cross-reference information, they had judged that they needed a new source—someone other than Jefferson, who couldn’t be trusted at all—to bring back the inner workings of Lontes.
“Because they didn’t look like they had any capacity left.”
However, having visited Lontes in person, Aiden was certain.
Lontes was already a rotten grape, festering from the inside out.
“The streets were crawling with outlaws, and the faces of the commoners were devoid of expression. Spring is coming, yet those who tend the fields see no hope, and the shepherds sigh even when looking at their flocks. But those high-and-mighty gentlemen were draped in silk imported from foreign lands, their faces slick with grease, endlessly talking about money.”
“……”
“They swarm around their own lord’s coffers like a flock of crows circling a dying deer, yet even in that state, the Viscount harbors vain hopes, completely ignoring the fact that he’s ruining his own house.”
Aiden’s assessment was scathing.
“Doesn’t that make them easier to exploit?”
“For how long?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m asking how long you think we can keep deceiving them to guarantee our interests while picking the Viscount of Lontes’s treasures clean.”
“That is…”
Roland couldn’t say anything.
Certainly, compared to the North, the difference in scale between Lontes and the North was like that of a full-grown adult and a child.
But a child grows every time you look away.
In the blink of an eye, they grow so fast—so robustly—that you’re left stunned, thinking, *‘Was he always that big?’*
The child, rapidly bulking up, decided that instead of coaxing a slightly dim-witted adult for candy, it would just eat the adult instead.
Because the appetite of a growing body knows no bounds.
“And one more thing.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want the way those crows survived to spread to our North.”
So, I have to keep my distance.
I thought I could endure it, but seeing it in person, it was truly, horribly disgusting.
Aiden looked slowly at his three adjutants and added.
“Hehe. If anyone starts having such rotten thoughts, I’ll crack their skull open immediately. Don’t worry.”
“Not hang them?”
“Hanging is for those who still have a chance at rehabilitation. For those who don’t, even the rope is a waste.”
“Pfft.”
Jamie and Kalisa snickered.
It sounded lighthearted, but Jamie was the kind of person who would truly do exactly that. And Kalisa, standing next to him, was the type to shout “Nice shot!” instead of stopping him.
Watching them, Roland felt as if a blockage that had been pressing on his chest for a long time was finally clearing.
‘Ah, this makes work worth doing.’
His life in the North had started almost by force. Even though he found it interesting to build up a region that needed so much work, Roland, who hadn’t been sure if this was a place he would entrust his life to forever, finally felt like he could breathe easy.
“The Viscount of Lontes must have rounded up his vassals immediately. He may be an unfaithful lord who hates complexity and dumps most of his work onto his vassals, but he would at least know that speed is essential if he wants to catch all the traitors who tried to sell off the territory’s interests at once.”
“Then how should we go about causing a ruckus effectively?”
“Do you want to prolong the conflict?”
“Of course. The high-and-mighty folks need to fight and claw at each other for a long time so we can sell corn and steamed potatoes on the sidelines while we watch.”
Aiden had no intention of dragging things out; he planned to suck Lontes dry of its capacity in an instant.
“Shall we start by helping with a prison break?”
At that moment, Kalisa dropped a bomb with a look that suggested she was having the time of her life.
“If we want a proper fight to break out, we have to at least get them out of the dungeon first.”
“……Kalisa.”
“Yes?”
“Take this month’s bonus.”
“Thank you.”
That’s how you make a suggestion, indeed. She knows how to see the core, the very core.
“But how are we supposed to break someone out of another territory’s dungeon?”
“Don’t we have the soldiers who came to the North with me?”
Not to be outdone, Roland provided the answer.
“Among the soldiers who came then, there are those who are close with the dungeon guards. I will track them down immediately.”
“Very good.”
Then do I get a bonus too…?
That comes after you find the right person.
As Aiden exchanged trivial jokes with Roland with a pleased expression, Jamie, feeling he should offer an opinion as well, shifted his body.
“Then I—!”
“You have your own work to do.”
“Pardon?”
“The plan to absorb the refugees flowing into the North. Shouldn’t the Livelihood Support Department handle that?”
“Refugees… you mean?”
Jamie blinked.
Refugees. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what the word meant.
But Jamie was surprised because, until now, the North had been in a position to send people away, not receive them.
Since last year, the only people fleeing to other territories were those who had committed crimes and were running away for fear of being caught by bounty hunters while hiding.
But just two years ago, how many people had left their hometowns with their families when the spring famine hit?
Jamie, born in the North, had known such refugees existed but had to pretend not to see them until the very end. According to territorial law, they were runaways who deserved to be beaten to death, but he couldn’t bring himself to lash out at people who were just trying to feed a piece of bread to their young children or elderly parents rather than starve to death.
“Absorbing refugees… Not leaving, but us accepting them…”
Even as he rolled the words around in his mouth, ah, as expected, his eyes welled up with tears.
“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll kick you out.”
Aiden issued a stern warning. He didn’t know what had moved him this time, but he didn’t want to see a bear of a man crying and acting pathetic in front of him.
So, Jamie slammed his fist into an innocent desk to calm his surging emotions.
*Crack—.*
A long fissure appeared on the desk.
“Why are you breaking an innocent desk again? You, you! No bonus for you! The cost of the desk will be deducted from your salary, so keep that in mind.”
Behind Aiden, who sighed, asking how many times this had happened, Jamie just sniffled. His heart felt ticklish. His lord truly had a way of doing things that were hazardous to his heart when they were together.
News arrived that the gates of Lontes had all begun to lock their doors at once.
It didn’t mean they were literally preventing even a mouse from slipping out, but it meant that the inspections of people coming and going had become that much tighter.
It happened shortly after hearing the news that the prison break plan had succeeded.
“It’s a standoff. The tension seems to be rising steadily.”
“The timing was good. It’s almost sowing season, so the Viscount of Lontes cannot recklessly conscript the territory’s people, which seems to have balanced things out.”
Sowing season. If they missed this, the year’s farming would be ruined, so neither the lord nor his vassals could wage war while abandoning their manors.
However, it was unlikely that two factions, now aware that they held different intentions, would just sit back and watch each other.
‘I’ll just watch the fire and do some business.’
The timing wasn’t good to ask other territories for help. With tensions rising daily between the First and Second Princes in the capital, lords in each province were busy sorting out whose side they would take.
Lontes was a place that had declared its support for the Second Prince and the Empress long ago.
“If other lords were to bring their troops now under the pretext of helping stabilize Lontes—.”
“It would be the same as declaring they are on the side of the Second Prince without needing to see anything else.”
It was true that many of the northern territories had more affection for the Second Prince than the First. However, it was obvious that for lords in provinces far from the capital to decide their stance so quickly would bring more loss than gain.
“Then…”
“This is…”
“Could it be?”
The three adjutants’ glistening eyes met in the air. Then, they simultaneously turned their heads to look at Aiden.
“It’s already started.”
“Pardon?”
“The Cat-folk and the former Lontes soldiers will step up.”
Getting the escapees from Lontes to arrive safely in the North, avoiding the eyes of the checkpoints. Operation: Hope.
— *Scurry, scurry.*
— *Squeak, squeak, squeak!*
“Gasp!”
Reyna opened her eyes in the darkness again today.
“It was a dream.”
She was drenched in cold sweat. The scenes in her dreams were always similar. Born and raised in Lontes, Reyna had worked at a nobleman’s house since she was twelve. At least she didn’t have to worry about food, but her master was a man of great temper, and he would lash out at the slightest annoyance.
That day, she had been baking an apple pie. Suddenly, soldiers burst into the mansion, tied the arms and legs of her master—the most terrifying person in the world—and dragged him away like a beast. Reyna was dragged away, too.
The place she arrived at was a cold, gloomy dungeon. Most of those who had been captured first were battered and bruised. Those with dead, hollow eyes said nothing, but Reyna realized.
— *Ah. Because of my master, I’m ending up like this, too.*
Even inside the prison, the “high-and-mighty” were still “high-and-mighty,” and if they didn’t open their mouths, it was the job of the underlings to have their fingernails pulled out and their joints twisted.
Fortunately, Reyna was just a low-level maid who baked apple pies, so even as days passed, she was never dragged out by the blood-soaked guards. Nevertheless, every night, Reyna thought.
She wished she could just die in her sleep like this. Then she wouldn’t have to tremble in fear, wondering, *‘Is it tomorrow? Or the day after?’*
— *Squeak, squeak!*
That night, the sound of mice was particularly vivid. The dungeon and the swarms of mice were inseparable, but in her sleep, Reyna thought the squeaking sounded a bit strange.
— *Crash!*
— *Hurry, hurry!*
— *Clink, clatter.*
— *Damn it, I don’t know! I’m going!*
— *Aaaargh!*
— *Thud, thud, thud.*
The sound of something breaking, the metallic clanging, footsteps and shouts that she couldn’t identify. Without knowing what she was doing, Reyna ran toward the outside.
— *Meow?*
How far had she run? Before Reyna’s eyes, she saw a Cat-folk stroking a mouse the size of a puppy.
— *Don’t you have a place to go, meow? I can take you, meow.*
— *I’m a delivery driver, meow. If you tell me your destination, I can move you, meow.*
She didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded quickly. Reyna thought something like this:
She was sick and tired of being lashed by the high-and-mighty, or for the sake of the high-and-mighty.
*Knock, knock.*
“Are you awake?”
After waking from her dream, Reyna, who had been staring blankly at her bed while lost in old memories, was startled by the voice from outside and opened the door.
“You had another dream. You’re drenched in sweat. Come down, wash up, and get ready. From today, visitors coming to the market will start pouring in.”
“Yes!”
Reyna had become a waitress at a northern inn. She would bake apple pies today, too. How many apple pies would she have to make to pay off the debt she owed the Cat-folk for her delivery?
“Um, Innkeeper!”
“Yes?”
“The day after tomorrow, when the market opens… that’s my day off…”
“That’s right, isn’t it?”
“At that time, I… I was thinking of trying to sell apple pies. Could I use the kitchen? Ah! Of course, I’ll buy the ingredients myself…”
The innkeeper stroked the hair of Reyna, who was a head shorter than the northern girls.
“Of course.”
Be careful not to get hurt. Ah, but northern people prefer meat pies over apple pies, you know?
At the innkeeper’s words, Reyna pondered.
‘Do the Cat-folk like meat pies, too?’
As she thought of the young Cat-folk man who had saved her, her face flushed red in an instant. Spring was already close at hand.